


Fragmentation I

by Knightqueen



Series: Subroutine Universe [6]
Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron 2.0, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossdressing, Drugs, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Mother-Son Relationship, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Rating: PG13, Recreational Drug Use, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightqueen/pseuds/Knightqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, Subroutine 'verse. More Fragmented pieces of narratives from the Subroutine Universe. Tales Span from the perspectives of Edward Dillinger, Walter Gibbs, Mercury and Jethro Bradley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Talk Down

**Disclaimer:** _Tron/2.0/Legacy_  is property of Steven Lisbgerger, Bonnie McBird and Walt Disney Studios (and some other guys I'm probablyforgetting but can't care to remember).

* * *

**Title:**  Talk Down

 **Summary** _:_  AU, Subroutine 'verse. In which Ed gets his ear chewed off by his father.

 **Prompt:**   _"After Sam's prank, Ed leaves the Conference table, picks up his phone and talks to, [but to] who, and why and about what?"_  (telera via tron20in20)

* * *

Disgruntled would be putting it mildly; too mildly in fact. For all his composure, there wasn't a time when Ed wanted to strangle Sam Flynn more than he did now. The stunt he pulled was below bush league antics, it was downright repulsive, just the kind of thing he'd expect from someone who couldn't complete college.

Rocking back on his heels, he pressed a signal digit on the touchpad of his phone and listened to the monotone pulse on the other end. All the while he grinded his teeth and rubbed his jaw in an attempt to control his temper. The moment he'd risen from the chair he saw the satisfaction on the face of old man Bradley; it was enough to want to throw the phone at him.

" _What is it?"_  His tone was harsh.

"Father, things didn't go as planned," Ed didn't bother mincing words or making nice. It never got him anywhere with his father.

" _I noticed, Edward,_ " Edward Senior snapped. " _It was Flynn, wasn't?"_

"Yes, it was Sam Flynn."

" _Then I don't want any excuses. Fix what's been damaged. I've worked too long and too hard for this fail now,"_  The line went dead, in its wake was the dead ring of a dial tone. Biting the wall of his mouth, Ed ended the call and proceeded back over to the table of bewildered businessmen. "Gentlemen, I do believe we have some damage control to tend to."


	2. There was a title for this but it sounded too snarky to use

**Title:**  There was a title for this but it sounded too snarky to use

 **Summary:**  AU, Subroutine 'verse. Sam tells Jet some rather interesting details he overheard from an old university friend.

 **Prompt:**  None. Felt like chewing on a particular characterization of Jet from seriousfic's  _"Save a Horse, mount an ISO (2/2)_ ", which is amusing for the most part.

* * *

Sam Flynn apparently has nothing better to do but call him at six forty five in the morning and disturb an already troubled sleeping pattern. Groggy and not necessarily feeling terribly inclined to be "the gentle host" Jet marched down the stairs with all the grace of a sleeping man and approached the door.

The silhouette of his friend next to the noticeably shorter figure almost gave him pause, however, the excited movements of tiny dancer revealed her identity immediately. Unlocking the door, he opened it with the usual flair, alerting the figure lying on the couch in the middle of the floor.

Jet cast a noncommittal glance in her direction and wasn't prepared for the tackle he was served by Quorra. "Hello, Jethro!" She greeted with the usual calm enthusiasm he'd come to know. In quick succession, Sam flashed Jet a quick smile and strolled into the Arcade turned apartment as if everything had gone according to plan. However, he was sure Sam wasn't betting on the sentinel leaping from under the sheet she was covered in. Mercury stood at her full height, an impressive 5'11'', fists clenched and muscles primed to launch her into an attack. Sam went completely still, knowing better than to even backpedal now that she had her sights set on him. Shifting his gaze over to Jet, he asked, "She's still doing this?"

Of course she was, Mercury, he learned, wasn't someone who was easy to forgive and forget. Reality was strange enough without her remember Sam wasn't enemy. Turning so that he was facing her, Jet waved his hand gently. "Mercury, it's just Sam. You remember Sam, right?" Jet managed to say with Quorra squeezing him in an adoring arm lock. Mercury looked to Sam with mild recognition as she sized him up; finally she lowered her arms and her posture relaxed.

Both young men breathed a sigh of relief. Quorra watched the ordeal with hidden concern before releasing Jet from her hug, he smiled tiredly at her. "Nice to see you too, Quorra," He greeted her. "What brings you two to my humble abode?" Sam shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the strap of his backpack. He looked as a tired as he did, his clothes looked thrown on at the last second and his hair stood up higher than his own without the moose.

"Sam's apartment-slash-box is being fumigated for bugs of some sort," Quorra sighed, stretching her arms over her head. "They like to eat wood." There was a dejected sigh from Mercury, who's pixie cut was suddenly beginning to complement her harsh expression aimed directly at Sam. "Oh, joy, more occupants," She mused. "Will your significant other have an issue with them as well?" Jet didn't answer right away; his silence was enough to tell the program that Eva would indeed take issue with two more people taking up what was supposed "her time" with Jet. Exhaling slowly, the program made flesh made her way around the couch and preceded toward Jet. "So the box is being fumigated and your first thought is to crash at the arcade, because-?" Jet trailed off, pretending not to notice how Mercury's eyes were studying him with the usual detached curiosity.

Sam shrugged. "It was relatively closer than Lora and Alan's," Sam commented, scratching the back of his head. Jet stared at his friend long and hard. "I actually think it's kind of the opposite, Sammy," Jet countered flatly.

"Okay, I felt like playing games," Sam offered as a viable excuse. "Besides, I've gotta ask you something."

"And that would be?"

"I ran into one of your old classmates yesterday."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, he said his name was Michael."

"I remember him."

"Yeah, well, he told me something really strange," Sam began. Jet rolled his eyes in exasperation, knowing what was come to next. "He said that you used to smoke Kush-"

"-To celebrate passing tests and was jumpy and paranoid about the FBI for weeks, yeah, I heard," Jet with a humorless smile.

There was an awkward pause between the two, Mercury and Quorra exchanged glances as they raffled through their minds for the definitions of "Kush". "That true?" Sam asked after a moment.

"Sam I've done a lot irresponsible things in my time, but smoking weed isn't one of them," Jet replied with a chuckle. "My old classmate, Michael, on the other hand, did. There was hardly a time when he wasn't in the fridge, on the couch or out of his mind. I didn't know he was released from prison though."

"He got arrested? How come you never told me that?" Sam inquired. Jet shrugged his shoulders. "It wasn't something I thought was important, especially since I never really made it a point to talk to him afterward."

Quorra hummed in curious delight. "You were doing the right thing while performing illegal operations yourself. That kind of behavior would classify you as very masculine, no?"

"I think the term you're looking for is 'very anti-establishment', program," Mercury replied evenly, leaning against one of the arcade consoles. Quorra ignored her, choosing to roll her eyes instead of answering.

"Pretty much," Jet answered, ignoring the dueling gazes of the two female programs. "And, yeah, Mike got arrested for trying to hack the CIA database after a suit came to visit our dorm. It would've been a pretty hilarious sight, if I hadn't been doing the same thing on a daily basis. Lucky for me, I know how not to get caught."

"Huh," Sam shrugged his shoulders. "You learn something new every day." There was no real way of responding to that bit of commentary without the standard smart-ass remark, so Jet left it hanging as is. "If you're still interested in sticking around, I've got leftover pizza and Chinese in the fridge. Help yourself if you're hungry."

"Where you going?" Sam inquired as Jet started toward the other room.

"Back to bed, where else would I be going? You three play nice, Mercury, I mean it."

"Of course, Jethro, I will be on my best behavior in your absence. I will even let them order the takeout."

"I prefer the Chinese versus the pizza," Quorra declared, walking toward the stairway. "The texture and the acclimation of oil is balanced better overall."


	3. Retirement is Preferable to Extinction

**Title: Retirement is Preferable to Extinction**

**Summary:**  AU, Subroutine 'verse. Walter and Lora discuss the particulars of his retirement.

**Prompt:**   _"There has been absolutely jack about our two Cool Old Guys version 1.0: Walter Gibbs and Dumont. This MUST be corrected. Give one or both of them an adventure, a missing scene, some musings about other characters, etc."_  (alltronix1 via tron20in20)

* * *

There was nothing remotely out of the ordinary when Lora came to visit his office that morning. She carried Jet in a makeshift sling that cradled him to her chest and a hand supporting the babe's bottom, the other holding bottle of water. A tired, but content smile played on her lips as she strolled casually across the threshold of the illuminated office. "Hey, Walter," She said.

"Morning, Lora," Said Walter, leaning back into his chair. "How are you?"

"Well enough I suppose. This one actually let me sleep last night, tuckered himself out from crying all afternoon."

"He misses his father," Walter stated rather than asked. Lora kept her eyes on the head soft hair as she nodded. "He hasn't gotten used going back and forth from Washington to L.A. quite yet. I think this'll be the last time I visit until he gets older."

"And hold does Alan feel about that?"

Lora shrugged her shoulders, shushing the fussy boy as he shifted awkwardly in the sling. "We'll cross that bridge we get to it," She said. "I'm not interested in talking about myself. I'm interested in you. Flynn said you wanted to talk me about; what was so important that you call me?"

"I'm retiring from my position as head of the R&D," He said. Lora gave a start, mouth poised to ask a question before closing again. "I- I don't understand. I thought that you wanted that position?"

"I did, and Flynn was generous enough to allow me control over the site, but times have changed Lora, games have changed. I can't keep up with the pace these days and I've been thinking more about my son," He explained.

"Walter Junior?"

"The one and only. Things got complicated between myself and he, we haven't spoken in fifteen years and I feel the need to make up for lost time," Walter mused.

"Has Flynn announced a replacement yet?"

"Not yet, I told him yesterday. I leave in two weeks, that should give him enough time to find someone, I hope."

"You know Flynn, he isn't one to lollygag about anything. Just look how fast he appropriated this place. He kept it running even through all red tape he had to go through," Lora chuckled.

"Yes, it's one of the reasons why I'm comfortable with the idea of leaving this place in his hands. Who knows? Maybe my son will have a place here (if he's still interested in software development that is)."

"Nepotism isn't exactly smiled upon in the field of business, Walter."

"I could say the same about married couples, Mrs. Bradley."

Lora threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh, startled her son awake from his nap. Walter watched as the boy's fingers curled around her shirt and his face turn red with irritation. His legs kicked furiously against her upper body, demanding that the vibrations in his mother's body stop. Lora settled down, shushing her baby as she went along. "I'm so sorry about that Jethro, mommy didn't mean to wake you," She cooed gently. "What will happen to the programs you've written?"

"The same thing that happened to yours, I suppose. Deleted or archived on a shelf somewhere, reference material only," Walter said. "Progress dictates that you no longer have to use outdated tools, sometimes new is necessary. I won't be too broke up that, of course, but I will miss this place."

Lora placed a consoling hand on old man's shoulder. "I know the feeling, friend."

* * *

Dumont knew the day of decommission was fast approaching; his code felt old and stressed, worked to its near limits. New programs were entering the free system every day, working to keep their world in working order. Things were happening fast now, faster than he could comprehend. Yori, Ma3a and Tron were gone, archived from the system to join Flynn in his new "Grid" world; to say that he sadden by their departure would be an understatement.

To be sure, he was aware of the backup files Flynn promised to create for them in the event that he still needed them, yet, to be the only one left from the older days of the system was… disheartening. Most tower guardians had been deleted; I/O towers were becoming fewer and fewer, quickly replaced by data streams and I/O Nodes as a means of communication and travel.

Dumont stared up into the bright blue sky as the tracks of data streamed overhead, feeding into the new system relay towers. It wouldn't be long now.


	4. Jezebel Bradley

**Title: Jezebel Bradley**

**Summary:**  In which Jet undertakes a dare that results in compromising incident during graduation day. Inspired by a tumblr .gif of Chris Evans in drag from  _"[the] Opposite Sex"_.

**Prompt:**  None

* * *

It was either this or streaking naked across the stage as he was handed his diploma; he figured the first was better than the latter and wouldn't get him arrested.

Thus, on the day he had prepare for the Day of Judgment, he spent the better part of his early morning struggling into his uniform, primping his eyelashes with faux lashes, pinching his cheeks and struggling with what seemed like the simplest things in the world for the opposite sex. When he was finished, he took a moment to regard himself in the mirror. Despite his masculine features and painfully broad shoulders and arms, he could  _almost_  past for a woman. Almost.

The makeup job was done well enough, lipstick was never went over the edges of his lips, blush and eye shadow was evenly placed and the fake lashes made the facial ensemble pop with the right level of embellishment. Okay, so maybe the pink skirt and blouse were a bit much, but he figured he looked the part enough at the top. Making sure his wig was fastened properly on his head and his bra wasn't crooked he slipped into uniform and departed from the dorm.

Getting through the hall was easy enough, everyone was a might too busy with their own drama to notice "Big Barda" towering over them as "she" struggled down the stairs. When he arrived, he caught a few glimpses of Sam in the crowd, standing on his tip-toes in attempt to figure out where he was.

His parents were right alongside him, looking so anxious he almost felt bad for what he was about to. They looked right at him and didn't blink twice, Jet bit back a grin as the line progressed to the stage.

"Jethro Eugene Bradley," Half concentrated on balancing himself and half listening, he automatically grimaced at the sound of his entire name sounded over the speaker and the laughs that followed. There was a moment of silence before his name was called again; eyes wandered about high and lo, the people behind him were getting antsy.

Swallowing the last of his fears, he stepped forward and hurried up the stairs as fast as the heels would allow him. There was a collective murmur of confusion, gasp and one obnoxious bark of laughter from Sam himself as he took the paper from the dean's loose grip. The crowd erupted into fits of laughter and cat-calls; he smiled pleasantly enough and walked past the president of the college.

Casting one glance over his shoulder, he watched his parents watching him with look of uncertain aghast while Sam was taking pictures of him with his cell phone. Placing the tassel on the other side of his hat, Jet proceeded to climb down the stairs carefully, heart racing in his chest. He was barely across the field when he was jumped by Sam, Jet gagged in surprise at the sensation of Sam's arm locking around his neck and dragging him into a bent position. "Ha-ha! I knew you'd do it! Your way too chicken too streak," Flynn laughed.

"Dude, get off me, I can barely walk in these heels as it is," Jet huffed, struggling to maintain his balance.

"As you wish, Jezebel," Sam released Jet from his headlock. The graduate stumbled into an upright position, his legs wobbled as he pulled his heel free of the dirt. In the corner of his eye he could see his parents approaching them, not a good thing. "Ah! Get me outta here man, I don't wanna explain this to my parents," He said.

"Hell no, I wanna see how this goes down, honestly," Sam chortled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Damn it, Flynn, this is your fault!"

"Hey, I didn't do anything. You could've easily done a quickie across the stage and maintained your manhood," It was too hilarious to see his friend barking at him with make up on; he looked like a bizarre hybrid of man and woman who ended up on the wrong side of Jeff Goldblum's teleporting-contraption from  _The Fly_. "Fine, but I'm pleading temporary insanity," Jet grumbled, folding his arms. The loud pop underneath his blouse and his subsequent yelp sent Sam into another fit of laughter.

* * *

**[END]**


End file.
